How You Get The Girl and other entries
by carotidclavicle
Summary: Entries from Odette's diary (Modern Times)
1. How You Get The Girl

_It was after the storm. When she was not at the eye, when the rule passed, and when the feelings were not playing games. It was when she knew that it was not a replacement. It was real. At least she's been thinking they are—they were._

When those small gestures during their outing meant nothing, made her realize something. When she was freezing cold on the last day from the low temperature and rain, his offer of his hoodie was his baby step to something worth remembering. When the offer of hiding behind him because embarrassment flooded her from the dare was another step. When drunk nights and sober hearts made her realize that they were both aware and sober.

Then after the storm…

Concern and experience were shared. It meant nothing but care, sympathy, and empathy. Until it crawled to the obvious reasons. Time was given in the middle. But it couldn't wait. She couldn't. Until she found out that he couldn't because of personal reasons. But during an ice cream crave, hypothetically, he would try. "Why not?"

Until the accidental first move was made. And clueless thoughts of whether out of joy of an announcement or the ease of the job. He may have played along or meant it. It went on during the morning.

It was during those mornings of luxury and stress that crept the tendency of proving meaning to gestures. When fingers would lace in comfort in secret places and when light touches cause the madness of internal tornadoes and tidal waves. And the pain of hiding would be unbearable and embarrassing either would have to stop. When eyes would meet and they would linger for quite some time until a second was so obvious to her but not to him.

The wordless secret made them find connection.

It would always make her hope for the same mornings.


	2. Welcome To

You find out that they are compatible for each other, that's when you step away. That's when you learn to stop and it is off limits. It's that "Caution: Wet" but you step into the area because you know you wouldn't slip but there is a chance that you might. You dare yourself to push forward even though you chose truth.

The truths would continue on because you want to find out and you want to learn. You want to hope even though the chances are slim. And then you realize that the parties are at loss because someone else won. And the third is clueless.

The last place won.

And you find out another truth.

And you realize that you love the game.

Because you cling to hope and countless truths.

And you realize the first is based from truth, dare, and a bottle of whiskey. Hope. Hope. Hope. Hope. Until another truth is out that will make you abruptly stop and move on.


	3. Miserable

_It is absolutely ridiculous to like someone. That person must like someone else. That person must be in love with someone else. That person doesn't like you back. That person does like you but doesn't feel the same way for you._

It is miserable. You cling on the thought that someday this person may return the feelings. It's miserable waiting. Hoping has become an internal struggle. You are in a tug-o-war between waiting and giving up. It's miserable. You try not to be obvious but you are failing miserably.

You are caught in between two. That person and a "rival". It is the worse place in between. You catch conversations wherein they exchange sweeter notes. Cheesy lines. You don't want to feel that you're supposed to stay away. But you want to cling on the hope that you two may share something. You become the fighter you internally hate. You try to feel numb. And you ignore the closeness you may never have with that person as it is shared with another.

The pain is unbearable. But you bear it anyway. Crushing on someone who you may not have a chance with is miserable but you love its misery. You love how it spins you around. You love how you regret not taking that same evening class with this person, how you can't follow their every footstep, how you don't want to feel clingy but you want to share random shit on their chat box, how the latest ALS bucket challenge went by, and how flooding their phone inbox will make them miss your messages.

The internal struggle is real. Your internal battle is real. Your emotions are real. One day you will be wishing why you haven't met this person sooner. How you aren't the person this person chooses to wait for after ordering, the person they wait for after class, the person they go to because they love to be with you, and the person that run through their mind every day.

You try not to be obvious and sneak less glances at this person. How hard it is not to sneak glances. So hard.

You would want this person to catch your candid moments, that your smile is contagious, how you stare at each other and it's communication, how they love your laugh because it's adorable, and how their name bombards your inbox.

The jealousy of attachment is real.

The jealousy is cancer.


	4. Still

_He was lovely. The most beautiful creature you could ever imagine turned into human. It wasn't his looks or the presence of muscle in the right places, it was his heart._ It was his kindness that drew me closer. How he would show temperance and patience in dying moments. It was his smile that got me weaker and how his eyes would gleam and just look beyond my soul. It was how he moved, how his actions, how his appearance get me all conscious. How he makes me aware of what I'm doing. He was our kindest soul in the bunch. He was careful because of his sensitivity. He was a bottle of joy, how he would make nonsense nothings turn into the joke of the day.

He had the saddest heart of all. Rumors and issues would cloud him and rip him apart until we were all affected. Until I was a part of this disease. It would matter to me even until the issue rested, it would affect me as it affected him. Ad it would die until he started acting like his old self. But it would haunt me in my subconscious.

But then again, he's lovely. Despite the tragedies, he would still be as lovely. His heart would still draw me closer until mine is beside his.


	5. My Tenth Sense

It was was amazing how you made me fall harder and harder, faster and faster everyday. It blew me away across oceans and borders and would get me fighting through winds of uncertainty.

Soldiers of questions would cloud me and I would wonder if reality made sense.

And you would make sense.

Until everything else doesn't seem like it.

It was the paradox of a dilemma.

Until you're the only one I see because you would be the only sense I understand.

 _You would be the only sense I need._


	6. Obsessed

You will never know  
How your scent leaves me breathless  
How it will be with me until I'm home  
How you get me so in love

You will never realize  
How our slight brushes  
Leave me clueless and shaken  
And get me so in love

You will never wonder  
How our similar taste in music  
Gets me excited and happy  
And get me so in love

But I will always ask myself  
Whether I get you so in love  
How I laugh at your jokes  
And how we're similar

Do I leave you breathless?  
And get you to wonder, if  
I make you fall in love?


	7. Math

It's just like every math problem.

The questions never stop and the answers  
would come from the simplest solution.

Sometimes from the lengthiest process.  
Most of the time from someone else.

You're the question, the answer, and someone else.  
You give me the simplest gestures of a solution  
that I cannot read you from your lengthy stalls.

But I sometimes I would think I get you.

Or at least I think I do.  
You're my favorite unsolved math problem.


	8. Mail

Cue that familiar audio of a mail that has arrived because I want to find your name at the back of the envelope, addressed to me.

It's silly to wait for that familiar audio.

Where you'll ask my to-dos.  
How the night's been.  
How to give answers to impossible questions.

Never was it about the personal stuff.

Until the audio plays.

And then you asked…

And tomorrow's different.


	9. The Art of Ignoring

It was hard pretending  
Not to talk to you but I want to tell you random things,  
Not to look at you when I want to fall into your irises.  
Not to reach out to your hand when you pull me closer.  
Not to notice you when you're meters away.

It was hard but I pulled it off.  
It was tiring.


	10. Unspoken Secrets

It was during that program…

You didn't have anywhere else to sit so I offered half of my seat. You joked around saying if you would have my lap but you sat down and shared my seat anyway. Then I couldn't pull the walls up anymore and found comfort under your skin. And I would have hoped you found the same comfort when we connected our palms and our fingertips touched. When those two seconds, when that fraction of life, became the seizure of my cardiovascular system. And you closed your fingertips around mine.

And I had to stop because I was conscious. Because I knew their eyes.


	11. Us

I hate remembering our gestures because I miss us.

I hate how I have to stop now because people have eyes everywhere.

I hate how my limits eat a large part of familiarity.

And it pains me even more to see that you're not the least affected when it's eating me inside.

And now, my limit turned to cancer.


	12. Monday Mornings

_Mondays top the most favorite hateful things in the world, for students. The lazy lectures from the professor followed by the torture of staying in the laboratory and/or the PE class that drains you so early in the day. But I loved my Monday Mornings because of you._

It was the usual "I could not understand what the professor is saying" lecture. It was something about bacteria and how to prevent contamination. He was not following the outline the school provided but I managed to get notes for foreign words. My friends were playing on their phones, some were taking pictures of themselves for the latest "Bored" caption, and a few were paying attention to the professor. One or two students would arrive late and proceed to not paying attention to the professor. You were sleeping beside me, with your bag covering your face. You had your notes as a super flat pillow, probably for props.

And when it would be time for Chemistry Laboratory, you would accompany the boys for a smoke. I would be with our groupmates to prepare the basic requirements for the next experiment. You would come back after a while but you wouldn't miss the bell. We would have a fair exchange of notes and the post-laboratory exercises. You would offer to draw chemical reactions for me since there was the experiment that needed to be due. I would stop you but you would insist because "it's the least" you could do.

As the rest of the class would be in front, paying close attention to the pre-laboratory discussion, I was at our respective table. You were with me as well, doing your own thing. We would sneak glances at each other and smile whenever we catch the same time of glances.

A laugh—because it was silly—would fill our space because we looked compatible. The laboratory experiment would start and our groupmates would come back. The leader would divide the work amongst us and we would be finished before the time.

While the results came for a closure and everyone else was preoccupied, that's when you would close our gap. The agony of our hands "accidentally" touching whenever we would walk side by side would come to a halt. Neither would jerk away, I wouldn't feel awkward. I would love the static you send me. The misery of waiting for a few days would pause and it would be like passing an exam you studied for days in advance.

When nobody else noticed, you would slide your fingers in between mind and time would stop. I wouldn't look at you because my eyes would be a dead giveaway for the ache. I would smile at nothing and I would take a small peek at you. You would look at our hands and I would look at them as well and turn back to pretending that it's no big deal.

It would tower over me – the spark and endless wishes. This dimension we are in would be our little coven, ours: the loose lacing of our fingers and the sliding of your hands up my arm. Ad we would act like we've done this every day, that everyone knows it's no big deal, and that they understand us.

But they don't.

We would hide because it would be a big deal, that the endless shoving of shoulders from our friends would embarrass us, that the snide remarks of jealous eyes would break us, that the deep. Hollow rumors would destroy our coven, and the walls that we built to protect us would crumble and expose us.

A quarter of a minute is too long for us and we would pause for the longest time. The pause would be rewarded with three seconds of how our hands missed each other.

And it would stop.

We would wait for the next few days because you would head out with your friends for a smoke and I would be inside the laboratory packing the equipment.

There would be no good-bye because it was not needed. There would be another day for us and there would be accidents drawn across the hallways, classrooms, aisles, and coffee shops. And I would miss them after those split seconds.

I would miss them even more as you fall in love with the girl in the photograph. When your mind would travel to thoughts about talking to her, to reminiscing what could have been, and to excitements that flashes across your face when you find out she's around the corner – I would miss you.

Then we would go back to our coven and I would still miss you…


	13. Cruel-Hearted Tuesday

_When I cupped your face between my hands and said I wouldn't leave you, you smiled. And our eyes would connect and I want to find out what you're saying because they said people could speak with their eyes. I didn't believe it at that moment. I wanted to hear it from you._

 ** _—_**

It was the first of many attempts to ignore you. I didn't want to stress myself out further from the requirements needed for a good university. I needed to concentrate on the topic at hand because it was the most crucial part for my future. You arrived late because you did not wake up ahead of time. The awaited highlight of my morning—the usual hug as a greeting—never came through that morning. We would usually sit beside each other but today was different, I made it different.

It was so obvious to me that I would avoid looking at you even though from the corner of my eye you would catch my attention. I knew you would look at me from the corner of my eye. It was obvious from that point of view that you would, whenever you would look my direction, and I would avoid it. I would talk to Michael, since he usually sat near us, and you were just a good foot behind him. I would turn to look at Michael and completely avoid your gaze, you would look right back. I could see it.

That moment I went to that table from behind of where I sat, your head followed me and I would catch you – blind side forward – that you wanted to catch my attention. And I placed a bet on myself of how long I would last. The first period went fine.

Second period was a bit difficult, when you approached Winter because he was going to present his case in front of the class. You gave him a friendly pat on the back and a nonchalant hug because that's how you "bros" wish one another good luck. And I still couldn't look at you. Even when Nimu arrived to tell his tale of how this girl wanted to take a picture with him, you nudged me on the shoulder and I wouldn't make eye contact. I just sighed and moved on from the tale. You wrapped your arm around my shoulder because that was our _thing_. That was how we communicate. And I would drag myself out of the stupid bet to loosely wrap my arm around your bag and we would go one with our lives. I would continue to ignore you. _Strike One._

I went to get a better view of the lecture and you approached me. You asked for some school supply, which I didn't have. And you followed it up with some pick-up line, which wasn't answered, so you went back to asking others for that supply. When my arm was dangling from leaning on the other table, you accidentally hit it, you probably didn't notice my arm that you accidentally hit it. And we would apologize to one another and you held my hand as you did. We would squeeze each other's hand and the sensation would linger for a second until you would let go. _Strike Two._

When Winter would present and the professor would critique the presentation, I would have to turn around to find out who was talking and so I could better understand what they were saying. And you were seated in the other lane. I would talk to my friend from across (who was also from that lane) and you were seated a good foot behind her and I noticed from my periphery that you were trying to play around—with your neck stretching out, moving side by side, from behind her head. And I would ignore what you were doing. At one point, I couldn't resist not looking at you so I looked at your reflection. It would last just enough to cure the ache until I would switch back to the lecture, when I've had enough you stretched your neck again and looked at me. But thank God I was already going to turn back. Which might make me look so obvious that I didn't want to look at you. That I was ignoring you.

You were out of sight when I was fixing my requirements for my university. The day was stressful that ever and I just wanted to go home and relax and sleep. But when you arrived and I was dazed, you offered me tissue for some strange reason. Probably because you saw me eating and I needed it. And when the dreadful call arrived and I looked stress than ever that's when I couldn't resist you at all. I leaned against you.

And I lost.

I wonder if you felt how I missed you and how sorry and stupid I was for ignoring you. I did such because I wanted to lessen these feelings I have for you. I wanted to restrain myself from my emotions because I know that there limits. I know that she loves you and that you find the qualities of a wife from her and she finds the qualities of her ideal husband from you. I know that you two have so much spark and something is hindering you. I know that there are jealous eyes and I don't want to stir issues because we both have so much on our plate, you most especially, and I don't want to add up.

But when you looked at me during that last hour, I keep on falling in love. I shouldn't keep falling faster than I should. But when you said that you were falling because JJ was grabbing your seat, I said I would catch you. And you pretended to fall. Did you feel that I was half-serious? Were you playing along when you were pretending to fall? Did you want me to catch you? I wanted to. And I was just like her. But she confessed and you said someone deserved her more than you did. And still from a little truth and alcohol, she would be the one.

I couldn't bring myself to say that I would show you how you mean to me, how you make it so hard for me to ignore you the whole day, how my actions would be so obvious to me because of gestures and acts of friendship we have, and how I wouldn't be ashamed of showing how much I feel for you. When I cupped your face between my hands and said I wouldn't leave you, you smiled. And our eyes would connect and I want to find out what you're saying because they said people could speak with their eyes. I didn't believe it at that moment. I wanted to hear it from you.

 _Never leave me_.

 _Strike Three._


	14. Were

I would lean to you and you would lean back, your head resting on mine. You would have your chin resting on the back of my hand whenever I would support my arm on your shoulder. And we would look at each other like the world meant nothing. I had my arm wrapped around yours. I would remove my bag from your view but you pull me back. Our fingers would touch and we would hold on for a second. When you left, you hug me with both arms and that was a first.

But when she moved near you because the photographer said so, your world revolved around her. And you would forget about me.

Don't forget me.


	15. Timeout

I need a timeout from you  
A timeout from the emotions  
From these waves you send me  
From these hurricanes you deliver

I need a break from the sadness  
The rollercoaster ride that only goes down  
The speed that keeps me awake in the wee hours of the morning  
The anticipation of the brake

I need a recess from the signals  
My mind needs to think this through  
My energy needs to recollect  
Because you drain the soul out of me

I need to recharge  
You sent me to run a marathon I cannot win  
You like how I chase you  
Because you know someone else won

I need a timeout from the nonsense  
The tidal wave that sends me off my course  
The cause of my insomnia and insanity  
I need a timeout from my favorite daydream


	16. Reverse

Yesterday, I made the decision of letting go  
It was easy say, easy do  
I had no problem  
I was fine

Then today,

no problem and I was fine  
We met in the cafeteria  
I was done eating and you were about to start  
We headed back to the rendezvous

You went with your usual bunch  
And I stayed waiting for mine  
I knew you wouldn't return  
You found the idea of staying boring

Then you came back  
And you stayed behind me  
I couldn't take it  
So I went at the back

The remarks would start  
The parade would begin  
And your fingertips would find mine  
And I would let go

And you would try to catch my attention  
I would only respond if you called my name  
I would only react if it was necessary  
I would only notice if you were persistent

And you were,  
And it was hard  
But it was necessary to stay away  
And it went on

We held fingertips until the end  
And I wonder if tomorrow,  
You would try to catch my attention  
Or give up trying, like I did


	17. Force

You pull me back  
You push me,  
pull me.  
Sometimes I don't get what you want…  
from me.

Or from anybody in general.  
Studying for a hard test  
is sometimes nothing compared to how you treat me.

Having you around some times tops  
the problem of where we'll eat.  
It some times tops the choice of dessert in a buffet.

You beat the anxiety of knowing you're next to present your report  
with your little gestures.

But then, it must be in my head.  
I over think.  
And think and think.

It will keep me up at night and the bags under my eyes prove it.  
The tension that surrounds me, show it.  
The jump scares from the thoughts keep me alert  
all the time.

And I don't want to have to be conscious around you.  
I don't want to be the person that has to  
have you a foot near me.  
The person that needs to see you for my day to be complete.  
The person that wants you to feel the same sin as I do.

I don't want to crave for the proximity every day.  
I don't want to be swallowed by your familiarity.

Sometimes, I don't want to be the first to let go.


	18. Candid

Her smile was contagious and you would  
be head over heels for her over and over

His smile was contagious and I would  
be head over heels for him over and over

She would be inches away and  
your heart rate would be off the scale

He would be a foot away and  
my heart would burst

She would make him fall in love with just a thought

He would make me fall in love with actions

She wasn't I  
But you are him


	19. Almost

I almost kissed you  
it was a mistake in so many levels  
it made me desperate in so many ways  
it made feelings surface from depths

Someone played music that would get me to jump,  
It was the kind of music that would make girls on their period want to  
have a mini disco vibe in their room  
It was the kind of music that would enhance the effects  
of the chocolate you gave me

And you were amused by my sudden strange act  
Then it would cause you to let out a nervous giggle.  
And the song ran in my bloodstream  
The rush of adrenaline took over

It made me blind, I didn't notice the proximity as I closed  
my eyes, the centimeters my lips from  
contacting your cheeks

When I felt that light brush of our contact  
I snapped out of my zone  
And pulled away, acting nonchalantly as possible

And continued to sing into the rest of the song

And it worked because at that moment I didn't care.

And when a friend shared a jar of candy-covered chocolate  
to everyone, I walked by you to throw the wrapper  
With an extra chocolate at hand

And you had your face like a child  
Your mouth open for the piece I had

And I was excited as well

When I placed that candy-covered chocolate in your mouth  
The rush of dopamine and serotonin coursed  
through my system.

I had my face closely to yours, again  
So close that I didn't notice, that my heart didn't beat faster than it should  
So close that my eyes should have closed like when couples  
are about it kiss

But I pulled away before I got any closer  
And I walked away like it was normal for us to do that

And the day would run by as if none of those happened  
And we would remember it as if we do that all the time.

When I grabbed my bag and headed out the door  
you followed and told me,

"you're leaving?"

"no."

"you're leaving me. Us."

"I won't leave you."

And I linked my arm around yours,  
Until I had to let go.

The day went by like nothing happened.  
And I would say goodbye.

And you would have your arms open to pull me into a hug  
And I would fall into it  
I wouldn't hug back.

Because I want to find out  
if that "almost" would finally be complete.


	20. Afraid

I've been always afraid to ask you…

Questions that involve my self-centeredness, my jealousy, my emotions  
It wasn't the typical question you would ask your professor or your seatmate or a classmate regarding a subject.

It wasn't about life

It wasn't about important dates in history

It wasn't about what to eat for lunch  
It wasn't about the latest killing in the city  
Or the latest state to approve of same sex marriage

It wasn't about politics either

It is about how you feel when I think of you,  
Do you feel static whenever you are my reverie?  
Do you feel butterflies as I do when I see you?  
Do you feel excited as I do when when major exams postpone? How about the latest concert to happen in the city? How about he high quality pictures of our celebrity crushes?  
Do you feel the same bliss I feel when we sit together?

How about this…  
Do you feel a pit in your stomach when ever I see you smile at someone who didn't deserve your smile?  
Do you feel your heart fall whenever a song reminds me of how we can never be?  
Do you feel the static of how my thoughts linger to the impossibility of our chances?  
Do you feel the helpless wishes I pray at night and thinking that I know it will stay as is?  
Do you feel the loss I sense whenever you unconsciously smile at someone who doesn't know you do?

Do you feel something ache whenever I cry for you at night?

I've been afraid to ask you because I'm afraid to open my eyes.  
Because the answers are already there.


	21. What Was it Like?

Typing the first sentence and then deleting it for an even crappier one shows that it is difficult to express how happy I am. Not even words can justify the complete bliss I am feeling right now. I don't know what lead to the action I've done a while ago but the good thing was that neither you nor I acted differently around one another.

It must have been the initiation of the want of something more. It must have been our crave for the completion of our puzzles. When your constant leans made me vulnerable and your proximity ruined my chances of fighting back, that's when I caved it. That when I found you on the other end with your eyes looking back at mine and your eyes smiling, I fell in love and had to pace towards you. When my hidden smile from the mask would turn this awkward event around, I knew serotonin would take its toll. And it took me to another level of bliss.

Eyes closed.  
A blanket of anesthetic surroundings.  
My mask-covered lips kissed your mask-covered cheeks.

And I acted like nothing happened, like I wasn't supposed to do that, that I wasn't supposed to be acting that way, that I wasn't supposed to cave in into temptation.

And it wasn't awkward.

Our hands would find themselves in secret places.  
Our fingers would crawl into each other.  
Our eyes would find comfort to talk.

What was it like?  
It was magical.


	22. Nicotine and Proximity

_Our eye contact has made more communication than words from our mouth but more unspoken words than our minds would ever allow us to say._

Today was like opening a christmas present, a birthday present, or any gift for an occasion. When I was younger, I would head to the toy store and look at the plastic kitchen sets or the doll houses in the "Girls" section. Then after a few good minutes of admiring the colors, the parts included, and the "Try Me's" I would return to my parents to ask if they would buy me the set. Their usual answer was "next time" and I would bring out my usual tantrums and silent cries. But, when the holidays would arrive and season-covered wrappers would set foot in the house, that's when I would see the worth of my silent cries.

That was different.

I didn't bring out my usual tantrums and I didn't show my silent cries. I hid the tantrums with patience, understanding, and by setting myself below the expectations. I screamed inside my head instead of the silent cries. I didn't wait for the season-covered wrappers in the house or under the christmas tree, but I waited. You weren't that "plastic kitchen set" in the Girl's Section of the toy store, you were priceless and unreachable. I wouldn't return to anyone for the reason of wanting you, needing you, or missing you. It was my sanity that I would return to– the days where I would spend being busy by completing the priorities, learning a musical instrument, or the enhancing of my artistry. And returning would drive me insane because my value-covered tantrums was a subconscious act and my internal screams are the parasites of my thoughts.

Until I didn't have to wait.

On usual days, you would turn to friends who smoke under trees, to local computer shops to get rid of stress, and to having late nights out for a detox. I wouldn't find you anywhere in the vicinity until I would turn around and spot you seated at the last row. I would find you along corridors and open spaces but not find you in our classes. I would find you with friends who breathe nicotine to relax but not with the student body for educational trips. I would find you in vegas-inspired computer shops not in conducive places for reviewing.

But I didn't find you breathing nicotine but breathing my signature perfume. I didn't find you with your company because you sat beside me the whole time, you would leave and sit at my periphery but your constant glances at my direction made you restless that you were at my side once again. The aircon would disturb your temperature and you'd transfer somewhere else warmer but this time you swung the direction of the cold air so our skin would adjust to our own temperature. Those times when you were conscious about propinquity had me perplexed when it vanished because you would have my arm support you as you snoozed away. It would have me wondering again when the distance of our faces would turn from meters to inches away. I would silently ask myself what changed you.

Those times when I would be the first to find your wrist or your hand because I lost my balance in the sense of things and bliss taking heights would make my pupils dilate but this time, my heart contracted more than it should when I came back to sit beside you and your fingers immediately interweaved with mine. And I would ask myself "Why would you do that?" over and over. And the question remained until someone phones you and you hand me the telephone and said, "I don't know who would call at this time. You answer it, baby."

And the amount of confusion flooded that I couldn't reply to whoever was on the other end because that endearment gave me cancer. And I left you hanging with that endearment because I couldn't think straight. Your witty remarks would ask for my attention and the panic of whether a comeback or a laugh would cloud me. But when I asked you if you were finished with whatever you were doing, so we could eat lunch, made me panic even more because I wasn't a talker- I found comfort in silence, I was the listener. But thankfully a friend of ours joined our lunch so I would avoid the awkward silence I would set.

Hugging you has been a rollercoaster of emotions because I would have to tame the greed of time but it was worth it because I found comfort in them. It was perfect because our puzzles matched. Leaning against you was safe and when your cheek would rest on my head or your chin on my shoulder, serendipity allowed us to fill our space. Our eye contact has made more communication than words from our mouth but more unspoken words than our minds would ever allow us to say. And when I asked her where she would stay before the next lesson, you leaned closer asking where we would stay. Then you would suggest places to be and we agreed. When I would stretch to hand my ballpen to someone your chin would find closure against my skin. You craved of it so much today, that I don't know if it was sincere, if your emotions allowed you to act such and not the side effect of a better kind of bliss.

Your indirect comments of how I looked pretty made me look at you twice had me wonder even more. You wouldn't usually leave the company for the sake of heading somewhere but you did, with me. You offered to hold the umbrella until we walked to our destination and the seconds of silence felt like hours because I panicked again that I found it comfortable.

But when we sat down in a restaurant and you had to leave because of a task had me pretend to be okay when inside I was melting in the thought of a void. But you changed your mind when the rest of the guys entered and you found your own comfort while I found comfort in silence. And the day would go by with our usual routine and the day would end with you disappearing once again.

And I would have to wait.

You weren't that kitchen set I wanted when I was seven years old because you're more precious than that. You're made of pieces that I would want to solve, whether to complete you with just you or complete you because you found me a part of your puzzle. I wouldn't have to release tantrums because constantly finding you and pronouncing your name in my head was worse than that. I wouldn't show my silent cries because thinking about you creates noise and disturbance. Returning to my parents won't be happening either because the idea of you has become my point of return, making sanity an option.

But if tomorrow I find you breathing nicotine and in detox places, I would have to wait for the immediacy. Hopefully unwrapped.


	23. Butterflies

Today you let the butterflies fly. You set them free.  
You took me by surprise.  
I never knew you would,  
because you were busy with contemplating on a petty matter.  
She never needed your attention even though she begged for it in ways that drove you mad.

You, I and a friend were out for ice cream because she drove us all mad.  
And you begged for distance. We gave you that.  
When we headed to the department store because our friend needed supplies  
and your eyes would linger to christmas decorations,  
you mind would linger somewhere else.

When we left to accomplish our agenda,  
our knuckles would brush constantly.  
By accident.  
Fate wanted to play tricks on us.  
And she did.

When I couldn't tolerate the covet, you gave in first.  
The last brush of our tips made you reach for my hand.  
Fingers intertwined for what seemed like hours.

A tight squeeze was all we need.  
We didn't look at each other but I knew what you were thinking.  
Because I was thinking of that too.

"I love you too."


	24. Untitled

I knew that he liked me. He knew that I liked him. And we gave indirect hints about it, maybe he thought that I was just playing along, until it came to a point that he knew I was serious and I knew as well. We didn't say anything about it. We didn't pressure ourselves to confession. Until one day I played it differently, I was the first to initiate the sweeter notes and he continued to ignore it because that's how we played it. And it kinda hurt me to think that we would always be stuck in the same phase of our relationship. So I stopped.

We would be obvious to everybody that we had something brewing but there would be days wherein we would leave them wondering again whether or not we were serious. And it came to days wherein it completely stopped. And they would rest their conclusion that there was nothing. But under secret stares and slight brushes, it sparked. We knew it did. We knew we did. And we'd go back together. Back to those days. The game went on for a while, again.

Then one day I said, "I was waiting for you."

"Why me? You're so sweet."

"Why you? Someday I will tell you."

"Tell it to me now."

"I'll tell you when you come back."


	25. A Letter

Dear Heart, Mind, and Soul,

I dread to inform you that I have not been taking care of you. I have been causing you such pain. I feel so self-centered right now. Let me explain the reasons behind such behavior. I know you don't want to listen to me right now but maybe you will.

 **For Heart:  
** I haven't been treating you properly. I have been abusing you. I keep these feelings piled up inside you and just release it to the wrong person. It's terribly wrong. The things I do for love, I chase and chase one person, I don't give up even though I know the person won't turn back and be with me. The things I commit when it's hatred, it's what hurts you the most because you aren't supposed to be feeling any of this. Hatred, especially. My anger, wrath, and selfishness are bottled up inside you until it can't contain anymore and until it explodes. It has caused you scars. The things that torment you because of sadness, you know very well that I am emotional and you calm me down. Thank you so much. The tears have made you tired and you become weak because of it. I am so sorry.

 **For Mind:**  
I have caused you a lot of headaches because of abuse. I stare at computers for too long and I have caused Heart so much pain that it affects you too. I know how much you love Heart because of its sincerity and I didn't realize it right away. I was naive. Dense. And stubborn. You haven't had enough rest but I urge you to finish it. I cram. I affects you. It affects me too. But I did not care. I moved on. I was numb. The flashbacks, I keep replaying it. Even though I replay it for a thousand times, you do not complain. You throb and that is a sign that I need to stop. But I take painkillers and push with it. It's a cycle. I am a sadist. I confuse myself sometimes too. I hurt you more. When it comes to lessons, I know I need to focus on the subject and you help me with it but I drift away. And you don't complain because you think that I am tired and it bores me. You want to make me happy but I never did anything for you in return. It becomes worse and I know nothing, so I give in to temptation. Which is a sin. I sin. And sin. And sin. The thoughts I am not supposed to think about, I think about it. I am every sorry.

 **For Soul:  
** The agony of Heart and Mind has killed you. It has made you impure. It has sinned against God and myself. I don't know how to apologize, it is so selfish of me and rude that I thought about this only now. I should have done something a long time ago but I was so caught up with temptations and distractions in life that I forgot you are the most important part of me. You are the reason why I live, why I pull myself together, why I have Heart and Mind, the greatest tandem in the world. I have lost faith in the most powerful man ever known. I have doubted what He can do, I hated Him, and forgot about Him. But when I worry, cry, or fail, He's the one I turn to. It's unfair for His part but He is so patient with me and He doesn't complain. He says "No" to the unimportant things in life. He won't give me things that He ONLY knows that would hurt me, and you are here on His behalf. I didn't see that clearly. I have drawn you out of His space and injured you in every possible way. Many times, I have turned you against Him but He will pull us back in. It is very embarrassing and I don't know how to make up for it. I am very sorry. I know these words are not enough, they do not even justify for the cruelty I have caused you. But I hope you forgive me.

 **For Heart, Mind, Soul:  
** I am not perfect. I never will be. But what is perfection, I might ask? Is it when you feel happy? Satisfied? Bliss? What?

If you call me the perfect possession, thank you. Even though I don't deserve such and even though I have numerous flaws you accepted me for who I am and you are very, very patient with me.

If temptation disguises itself pretty well, don't give up on me. I do not know what I am doing. I realize it days later and regret what I have done. Move me back to the right path and keep me steady.


	26. A Little Secret

It started with your simple stares. That little shine in your eyes to find an unfamiliar face in the room, that curve your lips form at the sight of a clueless mind, and your kind gestures that I never thought would mean anything.

It would mean as part of the job to help me get to know and understand the ropes around the joint. It would mean as that and nothing more. It would mean a student-mentor relationship, and nothing more, because you may believe that it is all part of work. That things must be kept private in all ways, that jokes are meant to be spread to everyone, that it must be something public because that's how everything works.

We will be nothing more than co-workers. You will be nothing more than the person who I won't get to see because of our shifts and I will be nothing more than the new kid in town who would be pestering the old-timers whether or not I am doing the right thing. We will be in different dimensions because that's how it should be.

But we did see each other often. We had the same shifts together and it went on for a large amount of time. Time, enough for us to get to know one another. Time, enough to have a few private jokes because I would accompany you and you would let me follow you behind every room of the building. Time, enough for you to teach me how things normally work and enough for me to understand how it should work. Time was enough for us to share a few experiences outside the building. It was enough for us to go past "What's your name" and just a little bit enough to reach "What's your story".

But I always thought everything was enough until we always found each other arriving at the same time, leaving almost at the same pace, and finding each other trapped in the narrow spaces of the room. It was supposed to be enough until I became conscious of our legs brushing under the table during meals, how our fingers would lightly touch from grabbing a paper, pen, or apparatuses, how we would find ourselves staring at each other for must be the longest time for me until we're uncomfortable that we look away, and how we would sometimes find each other catching glances back and forth.

It became more than enough.

Days into dwelling whether or not I am doing this right and weeks into thinking that I got the hang of everything around the room until it turned to months of comfort and the feeling of a new family. Feelings would be tested from friendly banters, all-around jokes, and mild gossip around the room. Companionship would be strengthened with shifts and assigned sections around the room. Everyone would have something to do and everything would get busy. And everything would turn back to "this is safe and this is how it should be".

Until we would find each other in the same space and everything would have just a little bit more meaning. We would get out of line of timid consciousness to full awareness. It wouldn't just be brushes of fingers but laces. It wouldn't be just about opening doors, having the other finish a sentence, sharing snacks, and keeping quiet because that's how everything works. It would happen because we allowed it to happen. We would get past the "what's your story" to "tell me something I don't know". It would be opening up, compliments, small misunderstandings, curious minds, and sharing meals. It would become the crave to want something more than that.

Weeks after the silence and thoughts and actions hinting other thoughts and actions, it has become what either most deem. It would get a little cheesy and childish. It would involve physical contact plus blushes and intimacy. It would be keeping secrets shared between stares and laughs because it meant something. It would be clueless to others because of the familiarity that brewed. It would have a touch of sneaky and quiet gestures because that's how we both want it.

Until it gets just a little bit serious.

A force would pull us together for some quiet time to heighten an emotion and it wouldn't make us uncomfortable. Until it would turn to wanting more alone time together because the room has suddenly become too crowded for us. The need would make us want to have our hands finding each other like lost children and catching glances more than usual because it's the only painting we adore. Until it would devour us and find us wanting the next level, eyes too close because we'd rather drown in them and lips touching because they were designed to be shut together. It would be "where do you want to eat" instead of the sitting in the room with them. Weekends and days off would be "let's go somewhere" and "good movies".

The room would cause suffocation and chores would be our aid out. Elevator doors shutting while we're the only ones in it would be a chance for a little intimacy. Empty hallways would lead us to pull one another on one side to heated actions. Silent sections would tempt us above a line but would be justified with how our lips perfectly fit one another. Conversations wouldn't be about mild gossips, "how're you doing", and "hi" because it would be about common interests and personal likes and dislikes. It would be about the latest shows, celebrity news, and sports.

Until we would be obvious.

Until we aren't a secret.

Until we're comfortable to show our laced hands, lips contacting cheeks, and show how we could communicate with our eyes.

Even if that is so, we'll be having our own secrets.

How we could go further and explore, how our physical attributes fit perfectly like a painting, how we are designed to keep each other because our personalities match and because we have chemistry.

Because we compliment each other.


	27. Covers (Merante's Diary)

She would call me up in the middle of the night because that's how she wanted things to be. And I wouldn't say no.

It's not because I couldn't or because I pitied her, it was because I wanted to. I was already a part of it. I was already a part of her. It was insane. It was driving me mad. She drove me mad most of the time and I would find it extremely annoying and I would get sick of it.

But the way her head would turn to look at her friends in the corridor made me want to turn her to me and just only me. She made me selfish and it drove me off the wall. The way she would smile at corny, pathetic jokes or how the gossip made her beam would make me smile by myself. She made me mad for her. The way she would hold my arm would quicken my heartbeat and I'd fall head over heels for her completely, until I asked "what" a thousand times. I wouldn't get sick for her at all.

She would call me up in the middle of the night and she would want me to be there because her parents are out, she had a fight with her boyfriend, she found the world annoying, she wouldn't understand Math, she didn't get why Science is amazing yet frustrating, and she would complain just about anything in general. She always had a reason to call me.

Until I would just be waiting for her in the front porch instead of climbing up her window. I would meet her parents by the front steps and she'd be surprised to see me at their dinner table because her parents found me amusing. She wouldn't mind. We would stay in the living room and continue what school would want us to do.

Then they broke up because he was found in the janitor's closest minus clothes with someone less prettier than her. And he would be asking her to come back. And she shut him out completely then she'd be under my gaze only with sad eyes. I would drag her out of the house because her parents allowed me to. So that she wouldn't sulk on what had been and focus on what should have been. I would show her how we could be. She wouldn't take a hint because she has set a barrier for us.

I would cross that barrier.

And she would let me.

We would have debates on society and wonder how we would always work out after misunderstandings.

"I like this." She would say if she found the company amusing, if it made her happy. I would laugh at her remark and catch her candid moments. I would fall in love.

Until my emotions took its toll and I would ask her about us.

"We're two people whose souls found each other."

And I would fall in love over and over.

She would grab my hand in times where I least expect it and I would let her face me until our lips touched and I wouldn't pull away unless she did, possibly out of breath, possibly because she was smiling, and probably because she would get a little bit embarrassed. And I would love her even more.

We would find our hands underneath all the clothes until there wouldn't be garments anymore. Things would get intimate and we would fit just right in all places. And she would just be perfect as she comes undone. Until I would too.

We would attend carnival rides and fight because that's how we were. It would be about who was the strongest, the bravest, and the mostr extreme. Until the rides would have our clothes soaked and dry up during the next ride. It would be about the pain on our faces because we are kids at heart and it would be about how many cotton candies we could finish in a few seconds. It would be about how our hands found its place between conversations, rides, meals, and walks. It would be about how he never made her feel this happy and how she would be upset that he betrayed her like that. But it wouldn't be about how it tore me apart to find her vulnerable after she talks about him, how it hurts me that she would talk about him, and it would never be about how I was treating her better.

We would watch movies together because she was a movie enthusiast. I would watch how her eyes match her emotions and how she would aimlessly hold my hand whenever the music burst during the climax of the horror, how she would seem affected by a character's accident that would make the bones of my fingers crack, and how she would lean in to me because the movie tore her heart. I would catch her giggle or smile whenever the scene amused her and I would hold her hand and she would look at me and smile. And I would think how the luckiest man I am.

We would just be in her room while her parents are out and she would kiss me in the dark and under her covers. She would find my hand and lead me to her because that's what she wanted and that's what I would want to. My fingers would find her most vulnerable self and she would say my name in a whisper. I would send shivers down her spine because of how I made her. And she would reply in the same manner because that's how it worked. Because we worked. It would that way until my hands explored her and she would wrap herself around me begging for more. And I would give her that because I fell in love again.

Until I found her with him.

And I would fall apart.

We would fight after I found out and she would laugh and say, We're two people whose souls found each other."

There was no meaning. Two souls just found each other. It wasn't a crappy, cheesy version of "I love you". It was just as what it was.

And she would call me in the middle of the night because of the same reasons but I wouldn't fall for it again.

I wouldn't be head over heels for her.

I would answer her calls and reject her pleas because that's how we worked. It was supposed to be like that ever since.

Just two souls who found each other.


	28. Dancing in the Moonlight

_Because this is my favorite song and you're my favorite person._

You are waiting for the professor and you are alone in the laboratory with him. You are studying for a practical exam when suddenly you hear him humming "Dancing in the Moonlight."

You grin at him and tell him that you know and love the song. He smiles and stands up.

He sings the song and when he's in front of you, he takes out his hand offering you to stand.

Flattered, you take his hand and he twirls you around until he's got his hand on your waist, your hand on his arm, and yours and his other hand laced. You smile and lean on his shoulder.

You feel his lips touch your crown and you're in your own little world. When you turn to look at him, he leans forward and suddenly it's magic.


	29. I missed you

_You know you miss him when even though you're mad and under the same roof, you want to tell him how your day's been or the most random shit you've seen today but you can't because you're holding your pride._

You and Merante fought over not being able to see each other most of the times even though you live under the same roof. You wouldn't speak to each other for over twelve hours and tomorrow's another day of not seeing him the entire day. Weekends are only your his days off and the times you've missed for not being together has been ruined with this huge fight.

It's a chilly night and you are in your room while he is lying down on the couch in the living room.

Frustrated, you get off the bed and walk on the cold wooden floor until you've reached the living room. You see his head resting on one of the couch's arms and his feet raised on the other. You walk towards him and you can smell soap and newly washed clothes. You look at him and he looks up at you.

You crawl on top of him and he scoots himself up so he could take a better look at you. You start crying and he hugs you. He reaches out to wipe your tears away and kisses you on the forehead.

You fall asleep in his arms.


	30. Trapped

We were a mess  
How we would always find each other  
Because we fit  
How it would never bother

We were crazy  
Laughing at nothingness  
Playing tricks all year round  
Because we were a mess

We were occupied  
Of love under the stars  
Like nothing mattered  
Amongst grass and cars

We got lost  
North and South we went  
Tired and confused  
Couldn't crawl back to our tent

We crawled back  
Different and yet the same  
A distance that formed  
Bliss flew, distress came

We are different  
Like gems trapped in rings  
Like atoms in carbon  
Lost but tied by strings


	31. The Thing About Liking Someone

I'm not wishing a text message from him. It's cool if I text him first, I don't mind that. I don't mind that we don't talk about how our day's been, the news about what happened to our friend, news about how this cat suddenly attack the trash bin, how his siblings ruined the day, how my parents have left me alone, or complain about why the cafeteria food sucks more than usual.

We usually talk about school. When the next assignment is due followed by a short discussion as to why the professor gives us loads of shit to do.

We have 5 classes together and our mutualism towards each other's been the same. The usual "hi" plus a matching nonchalant hug, no emotions attached. We have the same breaks and still no emotions attached because we would always eat with our friends or we would eat separately, like if there would be no room for the other to sit. But he'd always have a seat for me and he'd find another table. I wouldn't mind.

My friend's got this huge crush on him and I ask how their status is. Sadly, he only finds her as a friend and she's quite upset but okay with it. I wouldn't cross that barrier because she's my friend and she "called dibs" first, in my perspective. So he's off limits. I thought that would be off limits. Recently, I found out during a conversation with 2 guy friends that he is hinting that he likes someone from our majors class. Another "off limits", I don't mind.

It wasn't until we found each other sitting side by side and I couldn't understand shit on what the professor was blabbering about, as I jotted down notes with my forehead creased, he noticed. He started explaining and dictating what the professor was talking about and I followed the discussion better than an hour ago. Along his explanation and clarification, he added side jokes which I found extremely corny and funny at the same time. I'm a sucker for corny jokes and secondhand embarrassment. I couldn't concentrate on the topic and I didn't want to shush him.

The usual platonic hugs started becoming a crave for something more. And I had to stop what my emotions were going through. I had to stop. My friend likes him and he likes someone else. Every time we'd have physical contact, my mind would spike the idea that he likes me and then my subconscious would say "No. Friends." And I'd internally kick myself but my skin would love it. What would seem like a friend-on-friend lean would mean that he may actually have "more than friends" feeling for me, I'd internally shake my head at the assumption.

I've added assumptions that he actually likes me and I have to stop. I know that I have to because I know that he only sees me as a friend and that our platonic relationship would remain at that unless he would send me signals that he would want to cross the friendzone. So far, he hasn't shown signs. I've noticed that I've become more "touchy" with him. I would place my hand on his arm more than usual, which is something I have never done in our friendship, and he might notice it strange. I'd have to tone that down too.

I would remember all those times we would have lunch together with friends, those times where we would hop in his car and he'd be driving us to one of our friend's house, where we would just sit in silence and share notes because cramming never left our system, and those times where he would suddenly ask me questions regarding an assignment. I wouldn't think of any other additional meaning to it.

Now I do.

Every time he would say witty remarks, I'd always think he'd say that only to me. But then again he's like that to everybody. I don't know why because of a stupid crush towards this person, makes you think or makes me think, rather, that he'd be treating me special. That he'd transfer to another table because he wants me to sit down, not because he respects women in general. That's he'd think of funny remarks whenever we sit beside each other because he loves to hear my laugh, not because he's the clown of the bunch. That he'd print my homework and wouldn't have me pay him because those are his babysteps before treating me out to lunch, not because it's not a big deal to print it for me.

Ever since I developed a crush for him, my brain has a thought or backstory as to why he's acting such. I can never look at him with just the pure thought of his good intention. I can't look at him and think he's acting this way because he's accustomed to it.

I have to look at him that way because that's how we're supposed to be accustomed to it. And it hurts because what if we both have backstories towards one another. What if we both think of each other differently and add meaning to each other's actions. What if he thinks my laugh has a different voice whenever I laugh at his jokes, that my laugh sounds genuine and sweeter. That whenever he feels my touch or my hand on his arm, it'd feel different, it'd be more gentle than others who've done it. That whenever I hug him it'd be a gesture that I adore his kindness and charming personality. That whenever I sit beside him it'd be because I want to sit beside him and not because I need a better view of the powerpoint presentation.

The answer to my question came to a rest when I asked him why he hasn't been seeing anyone yet. He told me that he hasn't thought about it seriously. The question is returned to me. I say that I'm not sure if this is what a crush genuinely means. I told him that I want my next to be my last because it's hard opening up, it's hard to go through different levels of how to understand and accept a person. It's hard to trust someone half-baked because you've grown fond of that person.

And he just smiled at me.

Months later, everything's been platonic and friendly because he's shown no signs of difference or special treatment and I have moved on and accepted our state. My subconscious has shut up that there is a reason why he's acting this way towards me. But a little voice still hopes otherwise.

And I'm not shutting it up.


	32. From Twelve Years Ago

"No! Really? Crap!"

That was the end of my turn of another card game. _Loser gets to shuffle and wait for the next game._ We're currently five who are playing just to pass the time. A member, from the other side of town, the other two from a different country, us—the remaining two—here, in our hometown. There is an upcoming play but it doesn't start half an hour past lunch and we just ended breakfast. Instead of reading books and ignoring the foreign bodies, we decided to play cards.

 _Fun fact_. This mini reunion may be a bit awkward since we haven't seen one of them for more than a decade. The other two, roughly a year. It builds a bit of getting used to.

 _Another fun fact._ One of them, a former love interest.

It was alright at first, but what irritates me is that whenever I feel even the slightest skin contact, I fall back right in. We were kids a decade or so ago, not even 18. We discovered what kissing felt like. _He was actually my first real kiss_. We kids under covers, we walked away to bedrooms and just kissed. It was very sinful. And here I thought it would be over, I've fallen in and out of love 3 times, and true enough, said good-bye to my childhood love.

Twelve years around the sun, he comes back. A simple game of cards, gambling even, no money involved. He just shuffles the deck and passes my cards to me, and our fingertips kiss.

 _Crap._

And then, eye contact.

No sweat, I can handle this. Then I wished this card game would end. Then I wondered why time suddenly slowed down.

We finally get ready for the play. We take the car to the venue, and just as the world hoped would, he and I sit at the back. I rest my hands on my lap and I could feel my sweat soaking the handkerchief I am holding. When my body cools down and my glands stop hypersecreting, the carriage misses a bump and my hanky drops on the floor.

He picks it up and hands it to me. Our touch lingers on for a while until we arrive at our destination. We abruptly let go and I fix my dress before going down.

Strike two.

Mid-way through the play—me being middle person—it goes out smoothly. He talks to me about who's who, predictions throughout the play. Whose character ends up leaving, who ends up staying. Pitch black to prepare for the next scene, he leans in and says, "Odette."

I turn to him and he is far too close. Just an accidental push from either side would send us kissing instead.

"Yes?" I whisper.

I feel his hand rest under my chin.

 _CRAP!_

Just two seconds of debating whether or not he may be thinking of kissing me turns into the slowest seconds of this moment, because nothing beats the seconds on performing on stage. And I feel like I've stopped breathing when I finally feel his lips on mine. Soft and gentle as I remembered. _So careful_.

And then the third scene.

On the way home, the youngest of us sit beside him at the back and I am relieved, not really, well _hell_ I am not. While Merante and I are left inside the house, and the other three are out for a smoke, I sit in the living room reading a book and he, the newspaper.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Setting my book aside, I look at him and nod.

"I'm sorry. I mean, not the kiss—" _shit_ "I'm sorry for my impulse. I don't know what came over me. You're just so beautiful and I couldn't just look at you. I thought this would be okay that we were just kids back then, clueless, immature. And then I saw you after so long, and I don't know if it was because I've been looking forward to see you that… I just couldn't control it. _God._ I feel like a child, I sound like one too."

We tried for the rest of the days. We kept hidden. Our passing of cards became more frequent that usual. Our trips to supposedly different bedrooms took turns to which one we'd be in. I found his hands in between my thighs and I found our kisses greedier like we've finally found something we've lost long ago.

For their 5-day stay here, 3 days out of that we've been locked up in one of either rooms. He's grown more muscle that the skinny shy kid I remembered. He's grown more confident and second thoughts are not part of his language. I invite him to bed in early mornings where the others would be in deep sleep and the house was quiet. We promised not to make much noise other than the bed creaking a few times nonetheless, it wouldn't be heard because the walls are made of concrete.

So early in the morning, I would find his hands crawling up and his kisses rousing me awake. He plants kisses softer than he normally would and his hands would leave trails like you were peeling the skin of grape, leaving its shape intact. _I loved every bit of it_. Kisses would cover my neck and there would be its positive reaction. He would peel every bit of layer until I would be completely vulnerable.

He would be in between and I wouldn't know where else to look, grasping his hair doesn't ease the bit of what he was doing to me. I would be completely under him and release.

"Good morning."

Our glances across table during card game became a flirt. We would look at each other longer than usual until we were smiling at each other. We would catch each other mid-smile and I forgot how soon they would have to leave. Last card game would be tomorrow and we found each other on bed again. Clothes on the floor.

"What now?"

"Do you think what we're doing is because this is the closure we need? Because when we left each other twelve years ago we didn't know how to end what we weren't supposed to have?"

"A continuation."

"A season finale."

"A terrible show."

Our supposedly last card game ended up to just being the two of us. Sitting on the bed intertwining our fingers. "Is it the same?"

"What do you mean?"

"To when you first saw me here after a long time from today?"

"I would surely miss you."

"Is this right?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are we not just… finishing what we started? No marriage involved because, we both know surely, that we couldn't."

"We're terrible."

"A terrible couple for a terrible show."

We kiss again, softly.

"I would sure miss you though."

"I would miss you too."


End file.
